C.N. Douglas, comp. Forty Thousand Quotations: Prose and Poetical. 1917.

Thirst

There is no small pleasure in pure water.

Ovid.

It is wretched business to be digging a well just as thirst is mastering you.

Plautus.

The incessant fever of that arid thirst
Which welcomes as a well the clouds that burst
Above their naked heads, and feels delight
In the cold drenchings of the stormy night.

Byron.

The panting thirst, which scorches in the breath
Of those that die the soldier’s fiery death,
In vain impels the burning mouth to crave
One drop—one last—to cool it for the grave.

Byron.

Till taught by pain,
Men really know not what good water’s worth
If you had been in Turkey or in Spain,
Or with a famish’d boat’s-crew had your berth,
Or in the desert heard the camel’s bell,
You’d wish yourself where truth is—in a well.

Byron.

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